The Last Dragon
by Wolfie-Dragon
Summary: Hiccup and Astrid are happily married, and life couldn't be better. But then all the dragons start leaving, and Hiccup falls ill. Astrid starts losing hope when Hiccup says he'll die when the last dragon flies away, but perhaps there is a way to fight the inevitable. Post HTTYD 2, loosely based on O. Henry's short story 'The Last Leaf'.
1. The Last Dragon

It should have been a regular morning. Terrible Terrors singing on the rooftops, moody dragons reluctantly waking up, blinking lazily in the pale winter light, and Vikings braving the cold weather to go to work.

Astrid remarked that on a regular morning she would have woken up from Toothless' stomping on the roof, followed by Hiccup grumpily removing his arms around her and strapping on his leg for a quick morning flight. Their baby, Thorick, would be woken by the noise, and wouldn't stop crying until she had comforted and fed him.

But this morning had been anything but regular. In fact, the past month had been one big crisis. No more Terrible Terrors sung, no more Nadders flew overhead. And Hiccup had not left the bed for two days, barely possessing the strength to sit up to use the chamber pot.

 _'How quickly things change,'_ Astrid thought as she looked at her coughing husband. Just a month ago things had been perfect and calm. But then, on the day the first snow fell, all the dragons suddenly fell asleep. In the middle of a walk or flight, many still carrying equipment or goods. They just fell asleep without warning, and couldn't be woken by any means.

At first they thought it was some kind of weird hibernation, but then Toothless, the only dragon still awake, explained the situation using crude pictographs and a lot of growling and gesturing. Apparently there was a sort of dragon emperor in a far-off land, and he had called all the dragons to join him. The dragons of Berk were now resting, preparing for the long journey to the other side of the world.

Toothless didn't know if they would return.

Hiccup had pleaded, cried, begged, but Toothless would not be swayed, even though Astrid saw the pain in his eyes. The will of the dragon emperor had to be carried out. Even Toothless, an alpha, was powerless against his command. Crying, Hiccup had replaced Toothless' fin with the old automatic tail fin after the dragon made it clear that where he was going, Hiccup could not follow.

The Night Fury had not been able to explain why this was happening. And, after one short, last flight with Hiccup, he had fallen asleep as well. Right in the center of the village square, surrounded by the sleeping dragons who no one dared to move. Thorick had cried for hours, not understanding why 'Toofie' and 'Stormie' didn't want to play with him anymore, or why mommy and daddy were so sad.

Two weeks passed in which Hiccup desperately searched for a solution, begging Gothi for divine guidance, searching the archives for old prophecies, reading the Book of Dragons for any hint of how he could stop Toothless and the others from leaving. He had pushed himself too hard, skipping meals and barely sleeping.

And now here he was, his thin frame shrunken until it resembled a skeleton, his skin pale, his cough grating. Pneumonia, the healer had said. The young woman who was being trained to eventually take Gothi's place had visited the chief's house everyday for the past week. In the beginning Hiccup had protested, saying he'd be fine and that he didn't have time for rest.

Now the chief was too weak to resist the healer feeling his chest and listening to his breathing. Astrid tried to be strong, but it was hard. Hiccup shouldn't be this silent. He was supposed to be loud and enthusiastic. His condition was worsening so quickly. Between nursing Hiccup and taking over his chiefly duties Astrid didn't even have time to take care of Thorick anymore. He was living with Valka for now, away from the vile sickness that afflicted Hiccup.

Hiccup's mood worsened when dragons started leaving. No last goodbyes or final words. They just woke up from their hibernation and flew away, disappearing into the white clouds hanging heavy with more snow.

And some time during the previous night, Toothless had gone as well. Astrid had opened the bedroom window, allowing Hiccup to look out over the village square, and the black dragon's spot was empty. Something broke in Hiccup then. He had refused the broth she had made for him, and just stared out over the village. His eyes were the only moving part of him, intently following any dragon that woke and set off for the unknown land.

Astrid decided to try and make a nice chicken soup while the healer examined Hiccup, and had just entered the bedroom while the soup was cooking.

The healer removed her hands from Hiccup's chest and stood up, gesturing at Astrid to follow her. They walked down the stairs in silence, and Astrid dreaded the news. But she wouldn't let fear stop her from caring for her husband.

"How is he?" she asked when they reached the hall, and the healer sighed.

"Not well. Normally the pneumonia only kills the infants and the elderly. We've already lost three this season. But the chief is young and strong, he should survive. However, he doesn't believe in survival anymore. If he keeps refusing food and sleep, he won't make it. You need to convince him to want to live again," the healer said. Astrid sighed.

"He has been very affected by Toothless leaving," she said, and the healer nodded.

"Yes, but he still has so much to live for. I know the Night Fury was his friend, but he needs to accept the loss," the healer said before taking her leave. Astrid was left alone. She needed a minute to calm herself and wipe her tears. She couldn't let Hiccup see her fear.

When she was sure no tears could be seen she grabbed a bowl of fresh soup and climbed the stairs. Hiccup was right where she left him, staring out the window.

"You hungry? I made soup," she said as she put the bowl on the bedside table. Hiccup didn't move or respond.

"Don't worry, it's not yaknog. It's just chicken soup," she urged, trying to keep her voice teasing. Still no response.

"Come on, Hiccup, you need to eat. The healer said you'll be fine, you just have to eat more," she begged, wishing he'd say something. When he still didn't respond she felt a pang of frustration.

"Well, fine then. If you're not going to cooperate we'll do it my way. I'm going to sit here and work on the rationing lists. If you don't start eating in the next hour I'm going to force it down your throat, understand? If you're going to act like a child I won't hesitate treating you as I treat Thorick," she hated being so harsh with him, but her fear of him dying was even greater.

Hiccup gave the faintest nod, and she sighed before sitting down at the small desk, positioning her chair so she could watch her husband while she worked.

She had worked on the lists of grain and fish for about five minutes when she heard him.

"Fourteen," Hiccup whispered, so softly she initially thought she had imagined it. But then more numbers came.

"Thirteen."

Then, ten minutes later, "twelve."

A few minutes later he said "eleven," and "ten,", almost at the same time. Confused, Astrid stood up and walked towards the window, trying to see what Hiccup was counting.

She only saw the deserted village. No Vikings dared to go outside on such a cold day. The dragons were still lying in the streets, some half-covered in snow.

"What are you doing?" she softly asked, kneeling next to Hiccup.

"Counting the dragons. Look, there goes another one. Only nine left now," he said, before coughing again. Astrid looked around to see a Gronkle shake off the snow before quickly flying off towards the west.

"Hiccup, don't think about that! Just focus on getting better," she said, moving to block Hiccup's view with her body.

"I won't get better. When the last dragon flies away, I'll die. I've known that for a while now," he whispered, and Astrid barely resisted the urge to punch him.

"What?! Why would you think like that? You just need to eat, and you'll feel much better!" she exclaimed, wishing Toothless was here.

Hiccup weakly shook his head.

"I just know. The moment the last dragon goes, I'll go too. I feel… connected to them. Now step aside, please. I want to see it when the last dragon goes," he said, and Astrid suddenly felt incredibly angry.

"You're being stupid! Your sickness has nothing to do with those dragons! And… And don't you feel connected to me? To Thorick? Or to Valka, and the village? We all need you! Everybody is scared and lonely because the dragons are leaving! That's why we need our chief!" she shouted as she put her hands on his. Noting how hot it was, she moved her hand to his head.

"And you're burning up! You're not thinking clearly! Now snap out of this stupid fever dream and eat the soup!"

Hiccup didn't seem perturbed by her outburst, and merely shrugged.

"I'm not hungry. I just want to sleep. I'm so tired. But I can't go to sleep. 'Cause when the last dragon flies away, I'm gonna fly away too. I wanna fly again. And I need to see them go," he mumbled, clearly exhausted.

"Look, I'm not gonna let you…" Astrid stopped herself before she could go on another rant. She clearly wasn't going to convince Hiccup. He was way too stubborn for that. Maybe she should let him see the last dragon fly off, and let him see that he wouldn't die. Maybe then he'd eat.

"You know what? How about you sleep now, and I'll keep a look out. When there's only one dragon left I'll wake you. Just… please eat something. Just a few bites of the soup before you sleep?" she proposed. Hiccup thought it over for a few moments, before nodding.

Astrid managed to pull him into a sitting position, and got him to eat a few spoonfuls. But before she could get him to eat the rest he fell asleep. Hiccup looked so peaceful she decided not to wake him. Maybe he'd feel better after he slept for a while.

As gently as she could she pulled the blanket over him, knowing he had to stay warm despite his fever. Then she looked outside and counted, before closing the window. Still nine dragons left.

Half an hour later someone knocked on the door. Astrid quickly jumped up from her work, wondering who it could be. Maybe it was Valka and Thorick?

She opened the door to see Valdemar, an artist who had recently moved to Berk. Rumors said that he was banished from the mainland for creating evil paintings, but Astrid couldn't imagine the old man could be in league with frost giants and demons. He did constantly declare he would one day create a masterpiece, a work of art so beautiful it would change peoples' lives. Maybe that had annoyed the mainlanders enough that to send him away.

He still hadn't started the masterpiece, as far as she was aware.

"Ah, Lady Astrid. You remembered our meeting?" he asked gruffly, and Astrid was flustered. She had completely forgotten. Valdemar had painted dragons since coming to Berk, creating realistic depictions of them using mainland painting techniques. When the dragons fell asleep he had drunk himself into a stupor, before drunkenly declaring that the gods had told him he should paint the people of Berk now.

Astrid didn't have a high opinion of the old man. He seemed frail and weak, was prone to fits of arrogance, and had an unhealthy fondness for alcohol. And while his paintings of dragons were good, his skill at painting portraits was... questionable. But he had asked very kindly to paint her portrait, and she couldn't really refuse. She had to take care of all of Berk, after all.

"Come in. I do have to ask that you make it quick, my husband is ill, and I need to take care of him," she said as she stood aside. Valdemar nodded and walked in, squeezing his painting supplies through the door and shaking the snow off his coat.

"I'd rather finish the portrait in one setting, that's how I work best. But if you insist, I will paint an outline now. Perhaps later we can finish it, when the chief is well again," he said, and Astrid was pleased to note that his breath didn't stink of mead for once.

"Yes. When he is well again," she said softly, trying not to think about the possibility that he wouldn't get well. She just wanted to get this over with so she could get back to caring for Hiccup.

"Sit over there, next to the shields. Good, the light is good there. Now stay still," Valdemar instructed, and Astrid couldn't help but note that he hadn't asked her, but rather commanded her. She decided against correcting him, not in the mood to antagonize people.

"How is the chief?" Valdemar suddenly asked after a few minutes of silent painting. Astrid wanted to lie, but she felt a sudden need to confide in someone.

"He is... very ill. He believes he will die. The healer says he should make it if he'd just eat and sleep, but he... refuses to do so. He just wants to look outside and watch the dragons leave," she slowly said, trying not to break her pose.

"What? Why would he think that?! That is stupid, who does he think he is to decide when he lives or dies?" Valdemar exclaimed, and Astrid flinched at his loud voice.

"I don't know. He says he'll die when all the dragons have left. He is sure of that," she said, and Valdemar started painting more aggressively, drops of black paint flying through the room and landing on the floor.

"Oh, you foolish Berkians with your foolish chief! What stupid talk of dragons flying off and dying and knowing when one's time has come. We are all disturbed by the dragons leaving, but that is no reason to do such dumb things! Look at me, I didn't stop living when my models left, I found new models! I will continue living until I paint my masterpiece!" Valdemar ranted, and Astrid couldn't stand it anymore.

"That's enough. You are talking about your chief. A little respect would not go amiss," she said clearly, and Valdemar's angry face softened.

"I… I apologize," he eventually said, so soft she had trouble hearing it. "I… I respect the chief a lot. He saved my life, let me live here when no one else would accept me. And… I don't want him to die. I am sorry it came out like that. I wish there was something I could do to help."

Astrid took a deep breath, trying to collect her thoughts. She didn't know Valdemar felt that way. But his tone had still been unacceptable.

"Well, unless you can make sure the last dragon never leaves, there's nothing you can do. His mind is made up. I accept your apology, but mind your tone in the future. Such rants do not help anybody," she said. Valdemar slowly nodded, and the next hour passed in heavy silence. Eventually she heard coughing from upstairs, and she told the painter there was no more time left.

Valdemar didn't say much, simply packing his paints and brushes and leaving the house with a soft goodbye and another apology. Astrid saw him out, then went upstairs. Hiccup was stirring, and she sat down next to him.

"How are you feeling?" she asked, noting that Hiccup's eyes immediately went to the closed window.

"Bad. Can you open the window? I want to see how many dragons are left," he whispered, and she reluctantly obeyed. Best to get it over with quickly rather than make Hiccup wonder about the dragons.

They both shivered when a blast of cold air and snow entered through the opened window, but Hiccup didn't seem to mind much.

"Four left," he said. "Only four have to fly away, and then I can fly off too."

Suddenly Astrid couldn't take it anymore.

"And where would you fly? You're not going to Valhalla with such an attitude! You should keep fighting! Don't give up! Or you'll go straight to Helheim!" she shouted. Hiccup just shrugged and stayed silent.

Astrid took a deep breath, before moving back to the desk. There was no point in trying to reason with Hiccup right now. So she'd just keep an eye out for him while she worked.

In the next hours two more dragons left, Hiccup announcing each one. When the sun set she stood up and made a meal. Her attempts to get her husband to eat some of it were futile.

"There goes the Stormcutter. Only the Nadder is left now. I'm sure it'll leave soon," Hiccup suddenly said as she got ready for bed. Astrid quickly looked up to see the large dragon fly away. Only a purple Nadder, lying next to the wall of a nearby house, remained.

"Hiccup, don't…" she started, before stopping. She couldn't let their potentially last day together end with an argument.

"Look, Hiccup, if you're so sure that you'll… die… when that Nadder goes, then I won't argue with you. But do you have to look at it go? There's a blizzard coming, and it's too cold to keep the window open. How about I close that window, and we just go to sleep. Together. Can't you at least give me that? One last night where it's just us?" she begged. Hiccup was silent for a long time, and she swore she could see his eyes get wet. He finally nodded.

"Okay," he whispered, and she sighed in relief. She closed the window, relieved to see the Nadder remain still, before climbing under the covers and putting her arms around Hiccup.

"I love you so much," he whispered. "I don't want to go, but I know I will," he said a minute later. Some part of her wanted to argue with him, say that he just had to eat if he didn't want to die. But she knew it would be useless. So she just held him tighter and pressed kisses on his neck. Weird shuffling and creaking sounds came from outside, mostly muffled by the falling snow and the howling wind, and she hoped Hiccup wouldn't notice.

"Rest. It'll be okay," she whispered, before journeying to the land of dreams.

Astrid was woken by the sound of coughing, and she felt Hiccup shake in her arms. It took a moment for her to remember what was going on, but when it came back all her tiredness disappeared.

"Hiccup! Are you alright?" she said as she sat up and looked at her husband, silently thanking all the gods that he was still alive. He couldn't really respond because of the coughing, so she massaged his back until it passed.

"You okay? Do you want some water?" she asked, but Hiccup shook his head.

"Open the window," he simply said with a hoarse voice, repeating it in a louder tone when she didn't immediately respond. She wanted to argue, but she had to know how the Nadder was doing as well. So, with shaking hands she opened the window.

The Nadder was in the same spot, lying perfectly still against the wall, its scales shining in the morning light. She quickly looked around at Hiccup. His expression was unreadable, and he was silent for a while.

"I… I was sure it would go during the night. I guess it will go today then," he said, and she nodded, too tired to argue.

He coughed again, and this time he did take the offered cup of water, eventually accepting a few spoons of broth as well before the healer came by. Astrid was glad for the small progress, though she kept looking out the window at the dragon. It remained perfectly still, but she was sure it would leave any second now. And when it did… She couldn't think about that. It was too horrible to contemplate.

But thankfully the dragon didn't leave that day. Hiccup seemed confused and didn't struggle much when she closed the window again at night.

The next morning the dragon was still there. Hiccup shook his head and rubbed at his bloodshot eyes, like he couldn't believe what he was seeing.

"I thought… Why isn't it leaving? Doesn't it have to go meet the dragon emperor?" Hiccup whispered to himself all morning about it. His fever was still high, but he was confused enough to accept a piece of bread without thinking. When the healer examined him she seemed pleased.

"He's doing better now. He seems to consider living again. Just make sure he eats enough, and he should be fine," the woman reported afterward. Astrid was so relieved she couldn't speak, so she just nodded, hoping the healer understood.

"You're lucky. There are others who won't make it. Valdemar the Painter fell sick yesterday. Pneumonia too. He's got no chance. I'm just making sure he's as comfortable as possible, he'll certainly go today. It's a shame, he'll never make his masterpiece now," the healer said before exiting, leaving Astrid in a shocked state. Valdemar was dying? He had been fine just two days ago when he painted her.

Hiccup wearily smiled at her when she entered the bedroom, for once not staring out the window.

"I've been stupid, Astrid. I think the gods are giving me a sign. They've made the dragon stay to tell me I shouldn't die. Or maybe the dragon emperor is doing it. Do you think Toothless convinced him to save me?" he asked, and she smiled as well, patting his shoulder.

"I'm sure it's a sign as well," she said, grasping the opportunity to cheer Hiccup up. "You want to eat now? You must be starving!"

Hiccup eagerly nodded, and ate the large meal she gave him. Then he fell into a calm sleep, and Astrid finally felt safe enough to leave him for a bit and see Valka and Thorick. She held her baby for over an hour, whispering how much she loved him and that he'd see daddy soon. But eventually she had to go. As she walked back home she passed Valdemar's house, and heard a commotion.

"He fought hard against the sickness. I'm sure he's in Valhalla now," Astrid heard the healer say as she entered the house. A few villagers were standing around the bed. Valdemar lay there, unmoving. In the corner his empty canvas stood, still waiting for him to start painting the masterpiece. The unfinished painting of her lay on the table. Astrid frowned when she noticed the muddy painting supplies on the shelf. That was weird. Valdemar was extremely careful of his inks and paints.

She talked to the healer and the villagers some more to hear about Valdemar's final days and plan his funeral. Finally, as the sun set, she left for home, making a short detour to check on something.

Hiccup was still asleep when she came back, and she quickly examined him without waking him. His fever had gone down, and his breathing sounded better. She closed the window, smiling when she saw the still unmoving dragon outside. Then she crawled under the covers and fell asleep.

The next morning she woke up to see Hiccup drawing in his notebook. He was definitely on the road to recovery. They shared a brief morning kiss, but then he asked her to open the window. The fear was clear in his eyes, but Astrid resolutely stood up and opened the window to see the Nadder still lying there. Hiccup briefed a sigh of relief, before asking for breakfast.

As her husband ate his sausages Astrid sat next to him on the bed and put her arm around his shoulders.

"Hiccup, there's something I have to tell you. Valdemar died yesterday. Acute pneumonia. Yakhair checked up on him and found him shivering and half frozen, snow still in his hair. She couldn't figure out where he had gone during the snowstorm. I went to his house afterward, to arrange the funeral, and there were some odd things there. I found mud and snow on his brushes, there were used torches, and his jars of purple paint were pretty much frozen shut," she said, and Hiccup looked at her in confusion.

"Look at the Nadder, Hiccup. Don't you think it's odd it slept so much longer than the others? Didn't you notice that it never got covered in snow? It's Valdemar's masterpiece. He painted it there on the wall the night the last dragon left," she said, pointing out the window. Hiccup's jaw dropped, and he shook his head.

I… I don't know what to say. He… I didn't…" he stuttered, and Astrid held him a little closer.

"You don't have to say anything now. His funeral is tomorrow, we can honor him then," she said, before squeezing his hand. He nodded, clearly shaken.

"Do you think you're well enough to see Thorick again? He misses his dad," she asked, laughing when he said yes immediately.

And unbeknownst to the two Vikings, in a distant land a Night Fury was preparing to lead his flock back home, glad that the meeting had just been a ceremonial council. A purple Nadder squawked angrily, annoyed to learn that they were leaving just hours after she arrived. Toothless didn't pay her much attention, instead focusing on working the automatic tail fin, taking comfort in the fact that he'd see his best friend soon.


	2. Farewells and Welcome Backs

**A/N: Multiple people asked for a second chapter, to tie up some loose ends and give closure. I liked that idea a lot, so here it is! I hope you like it!**

* * *

The harbor was filled with noise, even though nobody spoke. The wind whipped against Hiccup's thick fur-lined helmet to howl in his ears and cover his clothes in snow. Waves crashed against the shore, and sheets of ice cracked and groaned as they floated in the water. The torches next to Hiccup crackled and flickered in the wind, its motion copying the flapping cloaks and braids of the assembled Vikings. Gothi stumbled towards the boat, her boots making sloshing noises in the muddy snow.

Thorick whimpered softly in Astrid's arms, and Hiccup wished one of them could have stayed home to babysit him. Being outside in such temperatures was dangerous for a baby, no matter how many layers of fur they wrapped him in. But they both felt that they had to attend the funeral today, for multiple reasons.

Hiccup coughed, a grating, deep cough that made him spit out yellow slime. His stump burned and throbbed, even worse than it normally did when it was cold. He felt like crap. Only a few days had passed since he had decided to live again, and a full recovery from the pneumonia would take much longer. He wished he was back at home, sitting next to the warm fire with a cup of hot tea.

Today wasn't a good day for a funeral. There was a harsh, freezing cold wind, the ocean was restless, and honestly, Hiccup was way too ill for this. But the dead don't wait, and today was the first day in weeks where it didn't snow or hail. Bucket said more storms were coming, so this might be their only chance. If they didn't do it now they risked having to wait for another month, all while Valdemar's body decayed and his soul was restless, unable to enter Valhalla.

Gothi gestured at the boat containing Valdemar's body as she silently implored the gods to bless them. Even if she had spoken there was no way they could have heard her over the howling wind.

A few minutes later Gothi was done, and she gestured at him to step forward. Hiccup coughed loudly, spitting out another glob of slime, before stepping forward. He briefly looked in the boat, seeing Valdemar's cloak covering the shape underneath. Jars of paint, brushes, empty canvases and the unfinished painting of Astrid surrounded him. Astrid had said he could finish the portrait when Hiccup was well again. Maybe… Maybe he could paint in Valhalla.

Hiccup briefly wondered if Valdemar would still want to paint, since he had finished his masterpiece. But such thoughts were pointless, so, with a deep sigh, he turned around to face the small crowd. Not many had decided to brave the foul weather to say farewell to the artist.

Astrid was there, rocking Thorick and whispering sweet comforts, all the while looking at him with a nervous expression. Hiccup knew she was still worried he'd relapse and fall ill again. Valka stood behind her, and Gobber stood to the side. The healer was there, as well as a few of Valdemar's drinking buddies. The painter had no family that they knew off, nor loyal customers.

Hiccup cleared his throat, before addressing the small group.

"Friends. Family. Fellow Berkians. We are here to say goodbye to a fellow villager. Although he was not born here, and only entered our community a year ago, he was accepting of our… unusual ways. He was one of the few outsiders who saw the beauty in dragons, and sought to capture that beauty in art that will make us remember them, even though they're gone," he spoke loudly, hoping he could be heard over the wind.

"One of his paintings is most dear to me. When I fell ill last week, I had given up hope of recovery. With the dragons leaving I thought there was no place left on Berk for me. But he painted the beautiful Nadder on the side wall of the smithy, and it made me remember that the dragons will still exist in our hearts, our minds, and our memories. That painting made me want to live again. I once transformed Berk into a society where we lived alongside dragons in harmony. Now… Now it seems I will have to transform it back into a dragonless society. But these past years have not been a waste, and we have learned much."

"I do not know if the dragons will return, but I promise you all that I will keep leading Berk, and create a society we can all be proud of. A masterpiece. Our masterpiece. Because Valdemar showed me that we should always strive to create something better, something more beautiful."

"A great man has fallen. He may not have been a strong warrior or a genius inventor, but he was a creative spirit who always saw beauty in everyday things, and preserved that beauty so that hopefully it will last for generations. There was much we could learn from him. May he sit at the table of kings and paint the greatest warriors in Valhalla," he concluded. The assembly fell silent again as Hiccup stumbled back through the slippery mud to the bows.

Two of Valdemar's friends walked forward and pushed the boat into the water, where it was quickly captured by the wild waves. Loud bonks echoed through the harbor when the funeral ship collided with ice sheets, but eventually it found its way to the open sea, sailing between the two large statues. Hiccup notched his arrow and barely managed to draw the string, his arms still weak and shaky from the illness. Hoping the villagers wouldn't notice his weakness, the chief lit the arrowhead, lifted the bow, and released.

A rogue wave pushed the boat to the side, making the arrow miss. Astrid handed Thorick to Hiccup before grabbing her own bow and aiming alongside the other villagers. As one they released their arrows, and two hit the boat. Flames quickly swallowed the small ship, the burning paints producing nauseating fumes they could smell all the way on the shore.

The crowd was silent as they looked at the burning ship disappearing below the waves, while the Valkyries used the cover of the smoke to carry Valdemar to Valhalla. When nothing remained but ice and ashes Hiccup lifted Thorick a little higher against his chest, before turning around and walking back home. Astrid remained right next to him, whispering "Good speech."

He shrugged, not feeling very proud of himself. He couldn't help but feel Valdemar deserved a better funeral, with more than eight people attending. The painter had saved his life, after all. But the gods seemed determined to make the storm last, and most Vikings were sad enough from the dragons leaving to want to attend a funeral as well.

"How are you feeling? Are you cold?" Astrid asked, and he nodded.

"I could use a fire," he said, the thought of warmth briefly making him smile. But then he was reminded of Toothless and Stormfly. The dragons would normally bring them warmth and light their fires. That would never happen anymore. He lived, but he wasn't sure how to fill this new life.

"What's wrong? Is your leg hurting?" Astrid asked as Thorick squirmed in his arms. Hiccup shifted him, putting his arm under the boy's butt and supporting his back with the other, making the baby lean on his shoulder.

"No, it's… I miss Toothless. And Stormfly," he said, and Astrid sighed as well.

"I know. I miss them too," she said, and they continued on their way.

"Da… Da…" Thorick mumbled, and Hiccup looked down at his son. Was he actually saying 'dada'? They had been trying for weeks to get him to say that. He had 'mama' down already, and 'Toofie' and 'Stormie' and some other words, but he seemed to refuse to name his father.

The boy wasn't looking at him, though. He was looking over Hiccup's shoulder, gazing at something in the distance.

"Dwa… Dwagons!" Thorick exclaimed, and Hiccup's jaw dropped. A new word! He looked briefly at Astrid, who was also staring at the boy in amazement.

"Dwagons!" Thorick shouted again as he raised his little arm to point at something. Hiccup wasn't sure what the boy was referring to. There were no dragons left. But he still turned around, Thorick making an angry noise when his view was blocked.

Hiccup couldn't believe what he was seeing.

There, approaching from the western ocean, behind the wisps of smoke from the funeral boat, were hundreds of shapes. Shapes with flapping wings and bobbing tails.

"Toofie!" Thorick shouted at the same moment as Hiccup recognized the black shape leading the flock. Then a sound came from the watchtower. A single horn blow.

The signal for allies approaching.

Faint roars filled the air as the dragons came closer, and Hiccup didn't know what to say. He could only stand there and gasp for air as Toothless and Stormfly and Hookfang and Meatlug and all the other dragons flew into Berk.

Only when Toothless landed next to them, followed closely by Stormfly, could Hiccup react.

"Toothless! Hey, bud! You're back!" he managed to say as the dragon approached him. Thorick kept calling Toothless' name, begging him to play. Astrid ran towards Stormfly, embracing the Nadder's head in a hug.

Hiccup wished he could hug Toothless, but he had to keep holding Thorick. Luckily the Night Fury hadn't lost his forwardness during his journey, and proceeded to happily lick Hiccup's face. Thorick laughed, and Hiccup couldn't resist laughing either.

"Oh, bud… I can't believe you're back! You're not leaving anymore, are you? Are you staying here?" he asked as he scratched Toothless with his free hand. He breathed a sigh of relief when the dragon enthusiastically nodded. Smiling, Hiccup lowered Thorick a bit so Toothless could lick his face, the only part exposed under all the clothing. The baby squirmed, but immediately laughed and reached out his little arms to the dragon.

"Come on, Hiccup. Let's go home. With the entire family," Astrid suddenly said as she put her hand on his shoulder. Her other hand rested on Stormfly's snout. "Stormy!" Thorick shouted when he saw the blue Nadder, and Hiccup nodded.

"Let's go home," he agreed, before leading the way towards the chief's house. As they walked he suddenly realized his leg didn't hurt anymore, and his throat felt much better. His family was healed, and now he could heal too. And so could the village.

As they reached the top of the hill and the front door of his house, Hiccup turned around to look over Berk. The wind was dying down and the clouds looked much lighter than before. They were white with snow, instead of gray blobs carrying storms and lightning. Vikings were leaving their homes to greet the dragons and welcome them back. Children laughed, mothers cried, fathers praised the gods. Hiccup smiled, and wished Valdemar could have been here to paint the happy scene.


End file.
